Chapter 32

"You really expect me to believe that?" Emma's face scrunched into a frown, and beside her, Hook could feel a simmering anger radiating off of her. "I spent my whole life on the streets, and you're going to sit there and tell me it's simply because I'm misplaced royalty in addition to being some magical savior? Out of all the people that my parents could have been, you're choosing to tell me that they're Snow White and Prince Charming? What kind of a con is this?"

August made no movement, and the change in his features was nearly imperceptible, but his aura suddenly grew much colder. "No con," he assured her, his words slow and measured. "I am many things, but I am not a liar, least of all about your parentage. We've been searching for you for a very long time, Emma."

"He's telling you the truth," Tink cut in, leaning forward into the conversation. "He doesn't lie. Ever," she added. "He can't."

"Tink." August's tone carried a warning in it.

Emma ignored that warning. "What is she talking about?"

He shook his head. "It's nothing you need to be concerned about right now. If you need proof of your lineage-"

Hook didn't let him finish. Instead, he pressed Emma's question. "No, mate. I think we need to hear more about a man who can't lie, but grants us a false moniker for himself and expects our trust in return. Or are we still your prisoners and not privy to such information as the identity of our captor?"

The man's face took on a distinct hardness as he settled a steady stare upon Hook. No doubt he thought himself dangerous, and wanted to appear threatening. He didn't seem fully aware of whom he was contending with. There wasn't a man alive who could cause Hook to balk, and the soft-speaking one across the table from him was no exception.

"That's a good point." Emma's jaw set firmly. "If you can't lie, why were you able to give us a fake name? None of this is adding up. What are you trying to get from us?"

"Nothing that I told you was a lie," he protested adamantly. "I told you that you could call me August. I never told you that it was actually my name. I'm extremely careful with words and I know how to use them." He released a sigh of resignation and cast an irritated sideways glance toward Tink. "What she says isn't entirely true. I am capable of speaking a lie – or lies, potentially – but doing so would... let's say it would have serious consequences for me. Magical ones. It's a price I won't ever be willing to pay."

Tink's eyes rolled back into her head. "Oh, just tell them, Pinocchio! If you're right and she's really Snow's daughter, then she'll be learning all there is to know about all of us soon enough."

"Pinocchio?" Baelfire frowned with thought. "I've heard of you. Weren't you a doll or something that got magically brought to life?"

August – or Pinocchio, apparently – sighed again, this time with exasperation. "This is exactly why I don't like giving out my name. No, I wasn't a doll. I was a wooden puppet. A marionette, to be precise. My dad had always wanted a son, but never had one. He carved me out of enchanted wood, much like he did the wardrobe with the portal. The Blue Fairy then animated me in response to his prayer, and later, when I'd proven myself, she turned me into a real boy." Both his face and Tink's face darkened at the mention of the Blue Fairy – a detail that Hook filed away for later. "However, if I want to stay like this, I can't lie. Otherwise I'll turn back, and I mean all the way back. I wouldn't be a wooden boy. I'd just be a regular old puppet."

"That sounds awfully inconvenient," Hood noted. "Especially for a member of a rather clandestine guerrilla army such as yourself."

"It can be." Pinocchio shrugged. "I've always had a gift for words. If you know precisely how to phrase what you say, you can keep all your secrets and give a misdirection without stating a single falsehood. I make do."

Emma still appeared hesitant. "I guess that makes sense. You were saying something about proof, though? I sure wouldn't mind some, because 'Princess Emma' is a tough pill to swallow."

"Would you like to meet them for yourself?" He offered. "Your parents? You can ask them all the questions that you have. I've got a strong feeling that all your doubts about them being your family will disappear as soon as you see them."

"What?" Her eyes went wide. "Are they here?"

"No. They're not on the island. They've left on a diplomatic mission of sorts. There's a faction of outlaws on the outskirts of the Evil Queen's realm. We're hoping that they'll be willing to form an alliance with us, but unless there's a new development that we haven't received news of yet, no one has yet been able to locate their leader to begin any negotiations."

Emma's face took on a strange expression. A crease cut deep between her brows as they furrowed. She licked her lips before asking. "What's the name of the faction?"

"They're known as the Merry Men of Sherwood Forest. They're not known for getting involved in our kind of fight, but they are known for fighting in favor of the underdog, so we're hopeful."

"You've got to be kidding me." Emma grumbled, letting her head drop back as she turned her eyes up toward the heavens. Her obvious annoyance caused Killian's brows to raise questioningly. "That's all the way back where we came from!" She exclaimed then. "The reason you can't find their leader is because he's retired. He wanted to keep his son out of that life. The Merry Men would certainly still follow his command, but he doesn't give any anymore. At least, not to anyone but those employed in the tavern he's running now."

"Tavern?" Killian nearly choked on the word in his surprise. "Swan, are you saying...?"

She nodded. "Yes, that tavern."

Pinocchio's eyes darted between the two of them. "You know where Robin Hood can be found?"

"Yes. I know exactly where he spends his time."

"And if I were to bring you to where your parents are, would you be able to facilitate a meeting between him and them?"

"I can," she affirmed. "He may not like it, but I can make that happen. I definitely can't promise that he'll come out of retirement for anything at all, though."

"Now, when you say that you'll take us to where they are," Hook began, "how do you propose to do that? We saw no other ships in our approach. Unless you've kept them all hidden on the other side of this island, I doubt you've anything seaworthy enough to make that voyage."

"I'll navigate," he replied confidently.

"That's a bit presumptuous, isn't it? Simply inviting yourself aboard my ship?"

"Perhaps." The arrogant smirk creeping onto his lips was a sight that Hook found aggravating. "But you'll allow it. Unless, of course, you're convinced that you can find someone else to direct you to their location."

"Killian," Emma's voice paused him before he unleashed his argument. "We do need more hands for the crew, don't we?" He was struck by her use of the word. It wasn't his crew, but theirs. He didn't typically deem it preferable to share anything at all, but she was quite the exception. "There are roles that need to be filled."

"Of course you're right, love. But they need to be filled by those who can do the job. We've no reason to believe that this man is able. I won't take a stranger as my first mate, and a ship's carpenter requires a very specific set of skills."

"My father is a carpenter," Pinocchio elucidated. "He taught me. I know how to work with wood."

"That's all well and good," Hook drawled dismissively. "But a carpenter on a ship works on more than only wood. They also function as the surgeon aboard. Removing bullets and performing amputations after battles is as essential as ship repairs, and the carpenter is the one who holds all the tools for both of those jobs."

Pinocchio remained unfazed. "I did mention that I originally had a body made of wood, yes? I have no issue cutting into either wood nor bodies as needed. The latter's just a bit more wet and messy."

Skeptically, Hook ran his eyes over the man once again. He clearly believed he had the ability to do as he said, showing no ambivalence over his claims. Killian knew also that he could not and would not deny Emma this chance to learn her history. It seemed he was without options. "Very well, then. We'll put you to the test and see whether you truly possess the aptitude you've asserted. We'll sail tomorrow at dawn."